


For Hate's Sake

by deathmarkedlove_archivist



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-29
Updated: 2007-01-29
Packaged: 2019-05-09 11:49:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14715473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathmarkedlove_archivist/pseuds/deathmarkedlove_archivist
Summary: Season 2 - Spike goes to a witch so he can walk again and winds up being cursed. PG-13





	For Hate's Sake

**Author's Note:**

> For Hate's Sake  
> By Sersi & Cylla
> 
> PG-13
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own them.
> 
> Season 2 - Spike goes to a witch so he can walk again and winds up being cursed.
> 
> Special thanks to Marvel Premiere #26 for the idea.

He should never have come to Sunnyhell. It had been his ruin on more than one occasion, all due to the Slayer. His last encounter with her had left him in a wheelchair. How ludicrous was that? A vampire in a wheelchair. He shuddered whenever he thought about it. He had been master of Sunnydale and now he was only a step up from a minion. And he'd lost his girlfriend, lost her to a person he loathed more than anyone else in the world.

Spike wheeled himself into the main room of the mansion. Drusilla was flitting around the room, talking to herself.

"Dru, luv. . . ."

"Oh, my Spike," she sang, gliding over to him, "we have such a wonderful idea!"

"We?"

"Angel and I."

Spike grunted. "Where is he, anyway?"

"Worried about me, Spikie?" Angelus asked, as he sauntered in. He put his arms around Drusilla's waist and kissed her neck.

She smiled and stroked his face.

Spike grimaced and looked away.

Angelus grinned. "Dru tell you about my plan?"

"No." He didn't care.

"Gonna' raise Acathala."

"Who?"

"Acathala. He's big, nasty and opens a portal into hell."

"Gonna' take a vacation, then? Don't hurry back."

Angelus laughed. "I'm not going in."

Drusilla giggled. "We're going to open the gate, my Spike," she said, leaning over him. "All sorts of beautiful creatures will come through. Fairies and gargoyles. . . ."

Spike let the derision show on his face. "Sounds fun."

Angelus paced the room. "Think of it, Spikie, it'll be hell on earth."

"Heard that one before."

"Maybe, but I'm gonna' make it happen."

Drusilla ran to Angelus and threw her arms around him. "Oh, my Angel, we'll have such a grand feast!" He twirled her around. "Everyone shrieking and wailing. . . ."

Angelus wrapped his arms around her and kissed her.

Spike groaned and spun his wheelchair around.

"Don't leave on our account, Spikie," Angelus said, grinning.

In the arboretum Spike sulked. He only did this for five minutes before he realized he was turning into Angel. That infuriated him and he growled and knocked a pot of orchids off the table. It smashed into the wall, shattering the container and sprinkling the floor with dirt, pottery and bits of flora.

Spike fumed. Drusilla was flighty and easily lead, but Angelus was the real problem.

"She still loves me," Spike mumbled, sounding too much like he was trying to convince himself.

He glanced down at his legs and the wheelchair. It was his albatross - keeping him from fighting for his woman, taking what was his.

Everything would be different if he could walk. He wouldn't have let Angelus sidle in and take over if he'd had the use of his legs, and he wouldn't have taken Dru from him.

He could get her back if he could walk.

With that determined, he made a decision.

 

  
"What do you wish of me, vampire?" The witch was old, slow, and apparently had the rest of her life to sit and talk.

"My legs. I want 'em to work again."

She gave him a curious look. "Time will heal your injuries, vampire. Why do you come to me?"

"Because I don't HAVE time!" Spike grunted. He wasn't known for his patience and the old hag was wearing him down. He'd been here for twenty minutes and hadn't gotten past the questions and answers stage.

"Patience, they say, is a virtue," she drawled.

"Really." Spike shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Haven't heard that one before."

She seemed to consider this for an interminable few minutes. Spike sighed dramatically and threw his head back.

"Are you willing to assail a task for me, vampire?" she finally asked.

Spike left off his pondering of the ceiling, and said, "Yes, yes, whatever, just get on with it already."

"Very well."

She stood and hobbled across the room. It took her nearly three minutes to negotiate the short passage and return, by which time Spike was squeezing his head in his hands. He'd just started pulling his hair out when she said, "Drink this."

Spike eyed the small vial of liquid. "What is it?"

"It is your cure, vampire. More you need not know." She dropped into her chair across from him. "Besides, the ingredient list might disturb you," she said, grinning.

Spike snorted and tossed it back.

He waited, but didn't feel anything.

"Well?"

"It's not instantaneous," she explained. "Patience is the reward of the -."

"Skip the platitudes and tell me how long."

"Within the hour." She reached for her tea. "You must wait here. If the dose is not strong enough I'll have to give you another."

"Why not just give it to me now?"

"It's not safe."

"Not safe?" He laughed. "I'm a vampire. I can't be killed by some idiotic potion."

"I didn't say it would kill you."

"What, then?"

"There are all sorts of unpleasant side effects." She waved a dismissive hand at him. "The list is too long."

Spike gaped at her. "You couldn't have mentioned that before?"

"Would it have changed your mind?"

He sighed. "No."

She smiled. "Well, then, would you like some tea? It's ever so relaxing."

"No thanks." Spike glanced wearily around the tiny abode.

"Do you like games?" she asked, reaching into a drawer.

"Depends."

She produced a pack of cards.

"It will make the time go faster," she explained, gesturing with the cards.

Spike caught a glimpse of them. Old maid. He groaned.

 

  
An hour later:

"Better take the second dose, then," the witch said.

"Fine," Spike said in a clipped tone. "Hand it over." He thought he wanted nothing better than to kill Angelus, then the Slayer, but getting out of this house was now his prime objective. The old crone was going to be the death of him.

Spike choked it down and tossed the vial on the table. He gripped the edges of his wheelchair, prepared to wheel himself outside.

"Now, then," she said, grabbing his chair, "another hour ought to see some results."

"What!"

"You could need another dose. Now -."

"Another dose!"

"Healing potions are tricky," she explained. "I once healed a woman who had a strange skin affliction. You see," she said, leaning back and getting comfortable, "she'd fallen into a cistern. . . ."

Spike groaned loudly and contemplated the ceiling again.

An hour later, the witch pushed herself up from her chair and crossed to Spike, who had long since fallen asleep.

She poked him in the leg with a fork.

"Ow!" He jerked his head up, looking for a threat, only to see the old woman grinning hugely at him.

"Soddin' hell, woman," he said, "you couldn't give me a little tap on the shoulder?"

"It seems to be working nicely," she said, satisfied. She stepped back.

Spike gave her an astonished look, realizing what the pain in his leg meant. "I felt that."

"Yes."

He moved his legs an experimental inch and concluded that they seemed to be in good working order. He stood, cautiously.

"Go on, then," the witch said, gesturing around the room. "Try them out."

Spike walked the short distance back and forth, feeling no pain and no awkwardness.

"There you are, now," she said, grunting and sitting in her chair.

Spike moved to stand in front of her. He was relieved. In his impatience, he'd decided to kill the old hag, but now that it was over he was feeling - not exactly altruistic, but willing to not welsh on his deal. "Okay, then, what do you want me to do?"

"A small thing."

"Which is?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"But, not terribly easy. . . ."

"And . . .?" He sighed. It was like pulling teeth.

"Requiring stamina and patience. . . ."

"Spit it out already!" He was going to throttle her yet.

"An old enemy placed a curse on me many years ago. . . ."

Spike groaned and rolled his eyes. "I'm not surprised."

"It makes me somewhat . . . scatterbrained."

"No kidding." He glanced around the room, then back at her, wondering if he should risk leaving. The possibility that she might curse him wasn't worth it.

"I want to be young and beautiful again," she explained. "But, I've forgotten the spell. . . ." Her gaze traveled lazily around the room, clearly forgetting what she was going on about.

Spike punched her in the arm.

"Oh!" she shrieked.

"Look, if you don't get on with it, I'm leavin' and you can assail yer own task. Got it?"

"My task . . . oh yes." She looked him up and down. "Yes, you seem fit enough, but it will require much endurance. . . ."

Spike groaned and covered his eyes with the palms of his hands.

 

  
Spike stalked down the street, a large battle axe swinging from his left hand. The witch thought he might need it and he didn't argue.

He was in a foul mood, but he figured he could get the witch's thing done quickly, then get on to some bloodshed of his own.

He stepped inside the bar. It was filled mostly with demons and vampires. It didn't take him long to find the one he wanted. He would have stood out in any crowd.

Spike strode to the table and stood casually, staring down at the demon. It looked to be seven feet of green, scaley unpleasantness. Spike didn't care.

"What do you want?" the demon asked.

"'Fraid I need that ring you're wearin' there, mate," Spike answered, gesturing at the demon's hand where he wore a gold and emerald band around his little finger.

"What for?"

Spike sighed and hefted the axe. "Look, mate, I don't have a lot of patience. I'm gonna' take that ring with or without the hand." He shrugged. "Up to you."

"Here," the demon said, pulling the ring off and handing it to him.

Spike stared, dumbfounded, and took the ring.

The demon noticed Spike's consternation. "Not really a fighter, you know."

 

  
Spike tossed the ring on the table in front of the witch, waking her.

"Got the soddin' ring," he said.

She pushed herself up. "You need a ring you say?"

"No, look -."

"I don't have any rings. . . ."

"I brought YOU a bloody ring, you stupid bint!"

"Oh, yes," she said, remembering. "My mind, you see, isn't. . . ."

Spike waited, but she seemed to drift off into faerie land again. He glanced at the ceiling in frustration.

"Okay, then," he said, "good luck and all that." He turned to leave.

"Wait, vampire."

Spike sighed and turned around. "What now?"

"I require one other thing."

He wondered if she had enough presence of mind to actually curse him. He wavered between leaving and hearing her out.

"A small thing. . . ." she said.

Spike groaned and ground his teeth together.

"Easy for one with your talents. . . ."

"What is it?" he asked, knowing he would probably regret it.

 

  
"Spike!"

He turned around slowly and spotted the Slayer not thirty feet from him.

"Great. . . ." he murmured. "Look, Slayer, I'm busy now. We can fight some other time, okay?" Something occurred to him. "What are you doin' all the way out here?"

Buffy smiled. "I followed you."

Spike looked confused. "Why?"

"I wanted to know what you were up to."

Spike shook his head. "Go home, Slayer. I got things to do." He turned and headed for a nearby cave.

Buffy frowned. That wasn't like Spike. "Hey," she said. "You vampire, me Slayer, remember? We have an obligation here - fight to the death and all? Any of this getting through to you?"

He turned and stared at her. She was as infuriating as ever, and he did want to fight her. He grumbled. Now wasn't the time. He had to finish this business with the old crone, then get on to his own. The Slayer would come later.

"Whatsa' matter, Slayer? Gettin' rusty? Need a little practice time with a good fighter?"

She scoffed. "As if." She frowned at him. "What are you doing all the way out here?"

"Do you really care about this, Slayer? Why are we still talkin' anyway? You Slayer, me vampire, remember?" He gestured at her with his axe hand. "Out of stakes?"

She glowered at him.

He turned and started walking.

That was weird.

"Where are you going?" she called to him.

"None of your business."

"Anything that happens on the Hellmouth is my business, Spike, especially when it involves vampires," she said, following him.

Spike rolled his eyes. His night couldn't get any worse, could it? Out on some larky mission for an old bat that couldn't remember her name if it was written on her hand and now the Slayer was following him.

"Why are you followin' me, Slayer?"

"I wanna' know what you're doing."

He sighed. "Nothin' evil, so why don't you go on home?"

"Right. You're out visiting the old and infirm . . . with an axe."

A minute later they reached the cave. Spike peered in. He could see in the dark, but there wasn't anything to see, just an empty cave. He stepped inside.

"Why are we here?" Buffy whispered.

"I'm here to get a tooth from a Dacril - somethin' demon. I don't know why you're here."

They stalked cautiously through the cave.

"What do you want this tooth for? Something evil, I bet."

"You might wanna' be quiet now, Slayer. These things are a mite nasty."

A roar shattered the stillness of the cavern and sent a chill down Buffy's spine.

"What is that?" she asked.

Spike ignored her and continued into the cave.

They walked for five minutes in silence.

"What is all over the floor?" Buffy whispered, disgusted.

"Don't know."

"Well, it's hard. . . ."

Spike whirled on her. "You wanna' just shout yer lungs out, Slayer? I'm sure whatever lives in here doesn't know we're here yet."

Angry, Buffy opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted as a massive figure pounced on Spike from the shadows. The impact carried them across the cavern.

The creature held Spike in a bear hug, squeezing mercilessly. His arms pinned to his sides, Spike couldn't raise his axe and he couldn't free himself. The monster roared again and threw Spike against the cave wall.

"Maybe if you just asked. . . ." Buffy said, amused. She refused to help him. In fact, seeing Spike get a chunk bit out of him might just make the night worth it.

Spike got to his feet in time to see the demon lunge for him again. He swung the axe, slicing neatly through the creature's midriff.

The demon howled in shock, but didn't seem willing to let the injury stop him. He tackled Spike again and they smashed into the wall. Spike managed to keep his axe free this time and clubbed the demon in the side of the head. It took several blows, but eventually the creature dropped him.

Spike staggered away from it, getting his bearings.

The creature was faster than he'd given it credit for. It swung a massive arm at him, catching him across the jaw.

Spike reeled and hit the opposite wall.

"This is so pathetic, Spike," Buffy said.

The creature, seeing her for the first time, turned wide eyes on her. It licked its lips.

"Delicious," it whispered.

Buffy looked appalled.

The creature thrust a hand toward her, thinking her an easy victim.

Buffy dodged and stepped out of its reach. She kicked it in the leg, forcing it onto its knees.

"See," Buffy said to Spike, "it's all in the technique."

"Oh, really?" Spike said, pushing himself up.

"Uh-huh," she said, moving behind the demon and gripping it by the head. "We coulda' been out of here five minutes ago if you hadn't been dancing around with this thing - Hey!"

The demon reached around and grabbed Buffy by the shoulders, tossing her over its head in one brisk, fluid motion.

Buffy landed across the cave, just shy of the wall.

"Ever think about givin' lessons, Slayer? Know some vamps could use a little advice -."

"Shut up, Spike!" she said, getting to her feet and wiping dirt from her clothes.

Spike and Buffy warily circled the demon, assessing its weaknesses.

It didn't seem to have any.

Impatient, Spike let out a growl and lunged at the demon. Buffy stayed back, not wanting to get hit with his axe.

After a five minute fight, Spike emerged victorious. He had a large number of gashes and the beginnings of what looked to be really impressive bruising.

He leaned over the demon, opened its mouth and pried on a bicuspid. Another five minutes saw the three-inch tooth extracted.

"So, now what?" Buffy asked. Maybe she should just stake him now. She did want to know what he was up to, though.

"I'm leavin'. You can hang about if you want."

He moved past her, but stopped when she said, "Hey. Is that a tooth?" She bent to pick it up. She held it in front of his face. "What do you know?" she said, smugly. "It IS a tooth. Exactly what you were looking for, and conveniently NOT in a demon's jaw."

Spike groaned and rolled his eyes.

She dropped it and stared at him, quickly growing angry. "We just fought that thing - almost got killed - for nothing!"

"Well, I didn't ask you to follow me, Slayer!" He waved the axe at her, threateningly. "Besides, I don't remember you doing anything but soarin' through the air," he motioned with his hand, "ungraceful like."

"If I hadn't distracted it, you'd probably be dust right now."

Spike scoffed. "Why don't you go home? Watch Xena an' leave me alone."

"Nothin' doin', Spike." She followed him. "I'm staying until I find out what you're up to."

They grumbled and yelled at each other until they reached civilization. Spike was contemplating ways to ditch the Slayer when a group of vampires accosted them.

The one in the lead stepped forward. "Spike, we've been looking for you."

"Really?" He glanced from one to the other, considering the odds. "Couldn't have guessed that."

The vampire glanced at Buffy. "Helpin' the Slayer now, Spike?"

"What?" Spike spared a look at Buffy. "I am not helpin' the Slayer!"

Buffy was irritated at the notion. "You think I'd ever need his help for anything?"

The vampire ignored her and looked at Spike again. "Well, you sure aren't where you're supposed to be."

Spike was quickly becoming outraged. "Oh, and where is that?"

"Angelus didn't give you permission to leave."

"You think I need his soddin' permission to go somewhere?" Spike waved the axe at him. "I bloody well do as I please!"

"You can tell that to Angelus." The vampire reached for him, but Spike sidestepped and kicked him in the chest.

The vamp whirled on Spike, unbelieving. "You're going one way or another, Spike. You really want it to be in pieces?"

Spike's game face emerged and he let out a low growl. "Try it."

Buffy made a quick count of the vampires. There were ten. The odds weren't all that appealing, but she and Spike could probably dust the lot of them. She grimaced. That meant helping Spike.

"I been lookin' forward to meetin' you, Slayer," the nearest vamp said. "My girlfriend wants a necklace made outta' yer teeth."

Buffy whirled around and slammed a stake through the vampire's dead heart before he had a chance to move.

"Oh, man . . . that ain't fair. . . ." He dissolved before he could further lament his own passing, and Buffy leapt over the pile of dust and assaulted the next vamp.

"Oh - hey! Nobody said anything about the Slayer!" he said, holding his hands up.

"Sorry, I'll post my itinerary next time," Buffy said, slamming the stake through his heart. She smiled to herself. She'd have to tell that one to Giles. He didn't think she knew any words with more than three syllables.

Spike, still furious, didn't bother to trade any witty repartee. He found the axe quite handy as the vamps were scattering like cockroaches under the light.

He swung his arm in a graceful arc, the axe neatly decapitating the vampire to his left. Spike let the momentum carry him around in a circle and, as he turned, he gripped the axe with both hands and rammed it into the next vamp.

The vampire collapsed, the axe buried in his chest. He was too shocked to make any noise, instead he simply stared as Spike jammed a booted foot against his shoulder and jerked the axe from his body. He screamed as the blade came free and he collapsed, writhing on the ground.

Spike stepped smoothly around the vampire as he fell and moved to his next target. The battle had been engaged for less than a minute and already he and the Slayer had accounted for four of the enemy before they even realized it.

Buffy was moving with elegant precision, taking no more than a few seconds with each vamp. For their part, the vamps tried to get in a few snarky comments, just to rattle her, but it was having no effect.

". . .says kissin' you is like kissin' a wet brick, Slayer - hey! Ow! Ahhh . . . hell. . . ."

"Angelus was thinkin' 'bout killin' some more of yer teachers, but he says yer dumb enough already. . . . Hey, watch it! OW!"

Buffy staked her last vamp and turned to see how Spike was doing.

Despite their numbers, Spike had the advantage. He could strike indiscriminately with the axe, which he did, whirling and slashing wildly, uncaring of the blood that splattered him or the blows that assailed him. This was what he was good at - what he knew - and he'd missed it.

He decapitated the last of them and stood amidst their remains, eyes closed, breathing deeply. The air smelled of blood and dust. It was wonderful.

After a minute he remembered the Slayer and opened his eyes. He was tired of her following him, tired of being threatened, tired of having his third slayer kill constantly evade him. Tonight was the night.

Buffy was standing away from him, staring.

"I'm sure Drusilla will love the look," she said, indicating his duster. It was caked with blood and dust, but he didn't seem to mind.

A pained look crossed his face. Drusilla. He closed his eyes. The mere mention of her name conjured up thoughts of her and Angelus out killing and having a good time without him. Did she even think about me anymore? Spike wondered.

"Spike," Buffy said, uneasily. She could just stake him now and be done with it, but something seemed off. She really wanted to know what was going on and why Angelus was sending his goons after Spike. If they were on the outs for some reason. . . .

She wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, but she could add well enough. Angelus back plus Spike in a wheelchair added up to Angel and Dru playing house together and Spike out in the cold.

Spike turned abruptly and stormed off. He had business to take care of. He'd kill the Slayer later.

Buffy let him go, mulling over her discovery. If she went after Angelus now, what would Spike do? Probably help her or at least not get in her way.

She had to talk to Giles.

 

  
"Okay, then," Spike said, hurriedly, "got everything you wanted. We even now?"

"Why are you here again, dear?" the old woman asked, giving him a puzzled look.

"Oh, that is it!" Spike yelled. He threw the tooth on the floor. "I've had it!" He stepped closer to her, leaning in and waving his arm at her. "No more! We're through! Got it?"

He stepped back, swinging the axe angrily, clearly considering whether or not to kill the old hag.

"Now, now, don't be upset. . . ."

"Upset!" He leaned in again. "This isn't upset, you old hag! This is right pissed!"

She stood, trying to placate him. "I . . . I remember now," she said, uncertainly.

"Oh, really?" Spike didn't look convinced. "Got some voices in yer head, then, explainin' things to you when you go all daft?" He headed for the door. "I wouldn't depend on 'em, if I were you." He stopped and whirled on her. "No curses, witch. I did my part. Ain't my fault you can't remember where you left yer head."

"Oh, yes!" she shrieked, remembering. "A spell is what you wanted."

"Yeah, and you already -."

"Something about your enemy. . . ."

"Well, not. . . ." He'd been here for two hours. He couldn't really remember what all he'd told her. Best to humor her. "Uh, yeah. Look, I'll just be goin' now. Got somethin' to take care of." He glanced back at her. "Maybe you better get on with that beautifyin' spell before you go all one-with-the-pixies again," he said, making a swirling gesture at her head.

"No, no! You mustn't leave! I can do what you ask, vampire."

"You mean you haven't -?" He squinted at her. "What are you on about, then?"

"Here, here," she said, rushing up to him. She threw a foul-smelling dust on him.

"Hey!"

She yelled some incantation into the air and stepped back. "There you are, then."

"There I am what?" He stumbled about the room. "What did you do to me?"

"I gave you what you asked for, vampire, now go." She motioned toward the door. "I'm very tired."

"Wha -?" Disoriented and feeling dizzy, he staggered through the door and into the cool night, still clutching the axe. He only made it a few steps before he passed out.

 

  
Buffy sat on the sofa in Giles' living room while he paced.

"Do you really think you can get Spike to accept a truce with you?"

"I think so. You should have seen the look on his face when I mentioned Drusilla. There's definitely bad blood between him and Angel."

Giles nodded. "How do you wish to proceed?"

"I'll have to find Spike before he goes after them alone," she said, standing.

"If he does, they could very well kill each other, solving your problem for you."

Buffy considered. "I don't know, Giles. If Angel kills Spike then we're back where we started, and if Spike kills him, then we'll just have a new big bad to deal with. This way maybe I can exact some kind of demand on him if we win."

"Assuming he'll live up to his end."

"I'm going to try."

"All right. If you find him, bring him back here. We can discuss strategy."

Buffy nodded and left the apartment.

 

  
A small, pasty-yellow demon burst into the old witch's house.

"It didn't work!" he whined.

"Do I know you?" the witch asked.

He rolled his eyes. "I came here an hour ago for a spell!"

"What kind of spell do you want, dear?"

"You were supposed to give me the ability to kill my enemy!" he moaned, stomping around the small room. "And keep me from dropping my sword," he whined.

"Oh, uh . . . it didn't work, dear?"

He twirled his sword around in a fancy arc, then dropped it. He tried to catch it, but ended up knocking it across the floor. He dived after it, awkwardly.

"Oh, you're right, that didn't work too well, did it?"

The demon bolted upright. "I want my money back!" he screamed, waving the sword at her. He dropped it again.

The old woman muttered to herself as he went after his weapon again. "Too old . . . too old." She tapped her head. "Not much left up here . . . sometimes . . . sometimes I don't know what's going to leak out."

The demon, having retrieved his sword, gaped at her. "I think you need a little pharmaceutical help, lady," he said, angrily.

 

  
Spike woke slowly. His head was pounding and his whole body ached. He pushed himself up and looked around.

He was in an alley. He shook his head, trying to clear it. Why was he in an alley?

He got to his feet and looked around, disoriented. He glanced down, noticing the axe for the first time. It was covered in blood.

"Must've been a good fight," he mumbled.

It was a nice piece of weaponry. He might as well keep it.

Deciding to go home, he moved sluggishly through the alley.

 

  
Buffy spent the better part of the night looking for Spike. Eventually, she decided to head for Willie's. He probably new where Angelus was holed up since the factory had burned down.

Buffy ran into Spike two minutes later.

"That was easier than I thought it would be," she mumbled.

Spike still wasn't feeling his best, but he knew the Slayer, and he was disappointed that it wasn't her blood on his axe. He could rectify that easily.

He swung the axe at her head.

Buffy jumped back.

"Spike! What is with you?" She ducked under another clumsy blow, slipped around beside him, and punched him in the head.

"Ow!" Spike staggered a bit, then whirled to face her.

"You had plenty of opportunity to attack me earlier, Spike. Why now?"

"Huh?"

Buffy raised her eyebrows. "Not up to your usual standards, Spike."

He stopped fighting and looked at her, confused.

Buffy glowered at him. "I was looking for you. I have a proposition." Buffy cringed. Bad choice of words. She looked at Spike, waiting for the sexist comment.

Spike was just staring at her with a look of absolute bafflement on his face.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked, stepping closer.

"Don't know," he mumbled, stepping away from her.

"Okay, then, what happened to you?"

Spike frowned. "Don't remember."

"It's only been an hour since we last saw each other."

Spike gave her a curious look. "What was I doing?"

"You're really serious, aren't you?"

"Yeah, you stupid bint. You think I'd be asking otherwise?"

Buffy sighed and rolled her eyes. "This truce is getting off to a great start."

"What truce?"

Buffy considered lying to him, telling him that they'd already come to an agreement, but she just didn't have it in her to be that deceitful.

"The one I was hoping we could arrange."

"Why?"

"We have a common enemy."

"Who?"

"Angelus."

That name sent a quiver of rage through his body. It also jogged his memory. He was going to kill him. That's where he'd been heading before . . . before. . . . He knocked a fist against his forehead repeatedly, trying to recall.

"I hate to interrupt your wiggins," Buffy said, "but I need an answer."

Spike hadn't realized he'd closed his eyes, but he now opened them to see an impatient slayer standing in front of him.

"Why should I help you?" he asked.

"Because I can help you."

"How?"

"Drusilla."

Spike squeezed his eyes shut again as fresh memories assaulted him. Drusilla was the reason he was out tonight, the reason he could walk. He remembered. The old woman, the spell, the bloody scavenger hunt, all of it.

"Spike?"

He opened his eyes.

Buffy stared at him, expectantly.

"Okay, Slayer," he growled. "Let's go."

 

  
They only made it a few blocks before Spike started weaving.

"I really think we should go see Giles," Buffy said, noticing his erratic stride.

"We don't need a plan, Slayer," he said, disgusted. "We go in hackin' and slashin' like before. Easy."

"Yeah, well, before we were fighting minions, and their I.Q. level doesn't seem to rise above freezing."

Spike staggered against a car.

"Look at you. You're not in any shape to fight anyone, let alone another master vampire and his ho girlfriend."

Spike whirled on her in a rage. "Don't talk about her like that!"

"She left you, Spike! Dumped you the minute Angelus came back."

Spike turned away from her. He didn't want her to see how her words stung him.

"Why do you want her back?"

He spun around. "Why do you want your precious poofter back?"

Buffy was speechless. She hadn't thought about getting Angel back. After he'd killed Miss Calendar she'd given up that fantasy, had resolved herself to killing him.

"Or maybe the things he's done are too much to forgive?" Spike continued. "Thought about that, Slayer? What if you did get him back? You tellin' me you can forget him snappin' your teacher's neck?"

They stared at each other in silence for nearly a minute before Buffy spoke.

"I can't get him back," she said, quietly, her bottom lip trembling. She looked at the ground. Now wasn't the time to get weepy, especially not in front of her mortal enemy.

Spike stared at her, shocked. He'd made the Slayer cry. Why wasn't he happy about that? Maybe because they were feeling the same thing.

"Look, Slayer. . . ." He didn't know what to say to her. He couldn't be nice. He heaved a sigh. "Let's get to your Watcher's before he sends the three stooges after us."

Buffy gave him a slight smile and followed.

By the time they reached Giles' apartment, Spike was dragging his feet.

"You okay?" Buffy asked.

"Just tired, Slayer."

Once inside, Spike collapsed on the couch and Buffy and Giles held a quick conference in the kitchen.

"So, he agreed?"

"We're here, Giles."

"Yes, right."

"Got anything to drink? It's kinda' been one of those nights."

Giles looked shocked. "You mean liquor? Buffy, I really don't think this is the time -."

"Soda, Giles," she sighed, "or coffee. . . ."

Giles smiled, embarrassed. "Of course. I'll make some coffee."

"Fine. I'll go see how Spike's doing."

"See if you can get him to disarm himself. I'm not comfortable being in the same room with a vampire and a hurling axe."

"Okay."

Back in the living room, Buffy stood over Spike, who'd fallen asleep. He was still clinging to that stupid axe.

She kicked him lightly on the leg. "Spike?"

He muttered something she couldn't understand, but didn't wake up.

She kicked him again, harder.

Spike opened his eyes. "What the bloody hell is it now?" he said, glancing around the room.

"Get a grip, Spike," she said, sitting across from him. "We need to discuss strategy."

Spike snorted, and ran a hand through his hair. "It's simple, Slayer. Attack, stake, have a smoke. End of story."

She rolled her eyes. "I'll call the Pentagon. They've been doing it wrong all these years."

"You go complicating things, Slayer, and it'll only go bad."

"Is this how you make evil plans, Spike? Because if it is, I can see now why you're all so easy to defeat."

"I am not easy to defeat!" He thrust a leg onto the coffee table. "You're just lucky, Slayer."

In the kitchen, Giles shook his head, wondering if they'd ever be able to work together. They'd probably kill each other before they made it across town.

"Luck has nothing to do with it, Spike. You're going up against a well-trained opponent every night." She gestured at him. "You guys don't do anything but sleep, feed, and get your undead butts staked by me every night."

Spike gaped at her. "Oh, what's that special training you got there, Slayer? How to fight in a flimsy tank top without flashin' the enemy?"

Buffy turned red. She was about to deliver another jibe when Giles entered and cleared his throat loudly.

He handed each of them a cup of coffee, then sat.

"Spike, I'd appreciate it if you'd put the axe down," Giles said.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, all right." He leaned forward and set the axe on the coffee table. When he tried to turn loose of it, he found he couldn't.

"What the bloody -!" He shook his arm, banging the axe into the table, the coffee pot and utensils clattering noisily.

Buffy and Giles jumped up, alarmed.

"Spike. . . ."

"I can't let go of it!" He leapt up in a panic and started thrashing around.

"Spike, calm down!" Giles said.

Buffy grabbed Giles and backed away, staying well clear of the flying axe.

Spike started beating the axe against all the furniture in a frenzy.

"Soddin' hell! It won't come off!"

"Spike!" Buffy yelled.

Spike grabbed the axe with his other hand and pulled. It didn't budge. He tried again, crashing around the room, growling in rage and near hysteria.

Buffy and Giles backed themselves into a corner and watched Spike struggling with the axe.

"What should we do, Giles?"

"I'm not sure. I have plenty of weapons. . . ."

"He hasn't attacked us," Buffy said.

"Not yet."

Spike put an end to their predicament suddenly. He let out a howl and slammed the axe into a wall. It went in deep, the entire blade sinking through the plaster.

Exhausted, Spike sagged against the wall, his forehead resting on the chipped paint. He sank to his knees, his left hand still wrapped around the axe.

Buffy and Giles simply stared at him, then at each other.

Buffy made to move toward Spike, but Giles grabbed her arm.

"Give him a minute, Buffy."

She nodded and they moved out of the corner.

Giles cleaned up the spilt coffee and went into the kitchen.

Buffy just stood, staring at Spike's back. After a minute she moved to crouch beside him.

"Maybe we should get that axe out of the wall," she said, quietly.

Spike didn't reply, so she stood and moved around him. She gripped the axe and pulled.

It took her three tries and when it finally came free, it did so with such force that it hurled them onto their backs.

They lay on the floor for a few seconds until Buffy felt awkward. She let go of the axe and got to her knees.

"Come on, Spike," she said, pulling on his arm.

She got him up and over to the couch.

Giles watched in astonishment. Buffy certainly could show a certain amount of gentleness when the situation called for it. He returned to the living room and they all sat in silence.

Eventually, Giles was the one to break it.

"Perhaps you'd better tell me what you did tonight, Spike?"

Fifteen minutes later, the story told in vivid detail, Giles said, "I think it's probably some kind of curse."

"Oh really?" Spike said, sarcastically. "Hadn't occurred to me."

Giles ignored him. "Unfortunately, I have no idea what kind or how to cancel it."

Spike considered for a minute, then, "Well, it won't affect my fighting ability so we might as well do what we were gonna' do."

Buffy and Giles agreed and they set about making a plan.

They determined to attack the next night, hopefully catching Angelus and Dru unprepared. Spike would distract Drusilla while Buffy took down Angel. He'd leave with Dru when it was all over, never to return.

It was a good plan, except that Spike was itching to leave.

"I think you should stay here tonight, Spike," Giles said. "If they catch you alone. . . ."

"I'll be fine, watcher."

They argued for another few minutes, but Spike wanted to go back to the witch and make her lift her curse, or at the least, lop off her head.

"You said she wasn't terribly lucid," Giles said. "She probably won't be much help to you."

"Oh, I'll make her help me," Spike said. "If she doesn't, I'll play a nice round of cricket with her head."

Giles rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'm sure that will solve the problem nicely."

"Giles, can't you do some kind of spell to . . . I don't know, find out what we're dealing with here?" Buffy asked.

Giles contemplated for a minute while Spike paced, impatiently.

"I suppose I could do a simple revealing spell. It should tell us the reason for the curse and if there's any way to resolve it." He stood and went to his bookshelves.

Buffy turned back to Spike, but he was gone. She jerked her head around at the sound of the door slamming shut.

"Oh, great," she mumbled. She turned back to Giles. "I'm going after Paul Bunyan," she said, jerking a thumb over her shoulder. "Be back later."

"Be careful, Buffy."

 

  
Spike didn't make it to the old woman's house. He ran into Drusilla. She was standing in the alley at the back of the Bronze.

Spike stared at her, shocked. She was out without Angel.

He moved toward his dark goddess in a daze. He could walk and he could fight again. She couldn't help but look at him differently now.

Buffy, following Spike at a prudent distance, saw Drusilla immediately and stopped. Despite the obvious death blow to her idea of a truce, Buffy decided to stay and see what happened.

"Pet," Spike whispered when he got close enough.

"Naughty, naughty, Spike," she said, "making magic without mummy."

"Luv, I can walk."

Drusilla reached out and stroked his hair.

"Everything will be better now, pet," he whispered, closing his eyes and leaning into her palm. "Things will be like they were before."

He dropped to his knees in front of her and rested his head on her stomach. Drusilla looked up at the stars, humming quietly.

Spike seemed content to stay where he was the rest of the night.

"You need blood, my Spike," she said.

"I'm okay, pet," he mumbled.

She tilted her head, as though listening to someone. "The blood of a foe. . . ."

Spike looked up at her. "What are you on about, pet?"

"Your worst enemy, Spike. . . ." She looked down at him. ". . .to release you. . . ."

Spike got to his feet, his arms still around her. "Okay, pet, whatever you say." He took her hand and tried to pull her along. "Come on, luv. Gotta' find us a place to stay."

"We have a home, my Spike." She clasped her hand over his. "Daddy is very cross with you."

Spike gave her a sad, discouraged look. "Luv. . . ."

"You killed mummy's pets, Spike." She shook her finger at him, frowning.

Spike got angry. "They were wankers, Dru! Angelus sent 'em to kill me or drag me back for more torment!" He dropped her hand. "Is that what you wanted?"

"Spike," she whimpered, taking his hand, "come home and we'll make everything better."

"I'm not goin' back there, Dru," he said, firmly.

"Oh, Spike . . . things can be set right. You must be punished, my love, but my Angel knows what you need."

"YOUR Angel!" He snapped his hand back from her. "YOUR Angel! Still, Dru!"

He paced in a tight, furious circle.

"100 years, Dru!" He stopped and jabbed a finger at her. "Over a century we were together and you're leavin' me for that . . . that demented wanker!"

She looked at the ground. "Miss Edith told me -."

"Oh, enough with the doll, Dru! She can't talk!" He stabbed a finger at his forehead. "Can't you get that through your head?"

She began to whimper, tears trailing down her cheeks. "Oh, my poor Spike . . . drowning, and I haven't a rope."

She backed slowly away from him while Spike stared at her with a mixture of astonishment, hurt and anger.

"Magic always has consequences, my love," she said, then turned and strode out of the alley.

After a minute, Spike slumped against the wall of the club and slid to the ground. Tears welled in his eyes. His entire world had crashed down around him and all he wanted to do was sit in the pieces of it, waiting for the sun.

Buffy watched him for a time, not sure what to do. She still needed him, but talking to him in his current state probably would only lead to a fight and her staking him. She couldn't leave him, either. He might just decide he had nothing left to live for. He was already thinking that, she could tell. Maybe if she gave him something to live for.

She crossed to him. He didn't notice her until she was standing in front of him.

"Spike."

He didn't look up.

"Spike, we need to get out of here," she said.

"Why?" he asked, dully.

"Because the sun will be up soon."

Spike didn't say anything, just looked at the ground.

Buffy sighed and sat next to him.

They sat for nearly five minutes before Buffy felt compelled to speak again.

"Spike. . . ." What could she say? She knew how he felt because she was feeling the same thing. He was her enemy, however, and the things he'd done. . . . She shook her head. She couldn't think about that now. They needed each other.

"I know you don't want to go on, Spike," she said, after a minute.

"What would you know about it, Slayer?"

"Plenty." She took a deep breath. "It's easier to sit here and let the sun bake you than it is to get up and keep going."

"I don't need any platitudes from the Slayer Handbook, so get lost."

"I'm not leaving you out here, Spike."

"Got no where to go, Slayer."

"You can stay with Giles."

Spike snorted.

Buffy sighed and shook her head. Why was she out here? She should be home in bed. "At least you know how to break that curse now," she said.

"What's that?"

"Drusilla," she said, patiently. "She told you how to break the curse."

Spike glared at her. "What are you talkin' about?"

"You weren't listening, were you?" Buffy sighed. "The blood of your worst enemy?"

Spike frowned, remembering her words. He looked at Buffy.

"Well," she said, "I think you need to decide which of us is your worst enemy, Spike - me or Angel."

Spike considered for a moment. "You still need my help killin' Angelus. I say we do what we were gonna' do."

"And, if he's not your worst enemy? You'll turn on me?"

Spike shrugged. "We gotta' fight sometime, Slayer. It's what we do."

"Okay. Fair enough."

 

  
Thirty minutes later they were at the mansion.

"Nice place," Buffy said. "Very gothic."

"It's a rathole," Spike said. "Sun'll be up in half an hour; they'll be back any time."

Buffy nodded and she and Spike concealed themselves in the main room.

They didn't have to wait long before their targets arrived. They came in together, arms entwined around each other, laughing.

Spike growled at the sight of his woman cavorting with another man, even if he was her sire.

Buffy put a hand on his arm to try and calm him.

Drusilla stopped, abruptly, and Angel frowned at her.

"What is it, Dru?"

"We're having a party, my Angel."

"A party?" He scoffed. "If you say so, darling."

He left her swaying to the music in her head, and stalked across the room. He stopped, a glower on his face. Something was wrong. He spun around. Someone was in their house.

Spike stepped out where Angel could see him, growling low in his throat and the axe swinging lightly in his hand.

Angelus grinned, his eyes flaring with anticipation of the fight.

Dru giggled and clapped. "I told you, my Angel, we're having a party!"

Spike and Angelus circled each other, both wanting the fight to be a long one.

"Nice toy you got there, Spikie. Trade the chair in for it?"

"You really wanna' have a conversation now, Angelus?"

Angel smiled. "No." His game face emerged and he lunged at Spike.

Spike dodged to his right and swung the axe.

The blow wasn't unexpected, however, and Angel twisted out of reach. He backed up a few paces until he was near his weapons chest. He leaned over it, but Spike moved in swiftly and slashed at his head.

Angel ducked under the blow. He grabbed the chest with both hands and flung it over. The lid popped open, spilling the contents all over the floor. Angel snatched up a sword and a knife and leapt at Spike.

Across the room, Buffy was fighting Drusilla. She wasn't happy with their abandonment of the plan. Spike's impatience and her desperation at wanting an ally could spell an early demise for both of them. Spike was consumed with rage and jealousy, making him a much less effective fighter, and Buffy was hampered with trying to disable his deranged girlfriend rather than kill her. No, she thought, not the best laid plan. They'd be lucky to come out of this with only a few scars as a reminder.

Drusilla wasn't much of a fighter, Buffy discovered. She tended toward long dresses that got in her way and she relied heavily on magic.

"Look into my eyes, dearie," she crooned.

Spike had warned her about that little trick and Buffy avoided her gaze, punching her in the face for good measure. She didn't know how long she could keep that up, however. It was like telling someone not to look down. They invariably did anyway.

"You can't have my Spike," Dru whined. "He belongs to me and my Angel."

"He's not your Sp -!" She corrected herself. "He's not your Angel!"

Drusilla laughed and slashed at Buffy's face with her nails.

Buffy leapt back. "Fight like a girl much?" she said. "I know a few cheerleaders that could take you out, Dru."

Drusilla surprised her then, landing a solid right hook to Buffy's jaw. The blow sent her staggering toward the doors. They quickly graduated to grappling, and they rolled around on the floor, each holding the other in an unyielding grip.

Spike and Angel were assaulting each other in near mindless rage, blades clanging against each other in a dizzying fury. Both had tagged the other several times, but neither man was incapacitated as yet and neither looked ready to go down.

"Spike!" Drusilla screamed.

Spike's head snapped around.

Buffy and Drusilla stopped fighting, still holding each other. "I'm not going to kill her, Spike!" Buffy shouted. "She's distracting you!"

Drusilla smiled at Spike, then winked at Angel and blew him a quick kiss. Buffy punched her in the face.

Spike was shocked beyond speech at this final betrayal.

Angel grinned maliciously and took the opportunity afforded by Spike's preoccupation. He twirled his sword around and slashed at Spike's head with a swift backhand motion.

Spike glanced back barely in time to duck, and the weapon skimmed over his head.

Several of Angel's minions came in, then, and gaped at the scene.

"Slayer!"

Buffy kicked Drusilla off of her and she sailed across the room to crash into the wall, unconscious. Buffy jumped up and faced the new threat.

There were six of them. She pulled out her stake just as they lunged at her.

Spike and Angel were on the floor now, rolling around in a crazed rage, each wrist caught in the hand of the other, effectively disabling themselves. They were growling, kicking and punching in a mindless frenzy.

Buffy dusted two of Angel's minions almost immediately. The remaining four leapt back, reconsidering their plan of attack. Buffy took a few seconds to study their situation. Just as she was about to arrive at the conclusion that the odds against her and Spike were bad, three more minions entered from across the room.

Buffy didn't waste time figuring the odds again. She dived across the room and hurled the curtains open. A beam of sunlight lanced through the room, cutting it nearly in half. The vamps jumped back, growling in frustration.

Buffy backed away from the first group and made a careful survey of the room and their situation. Spike and Angel were oblivious to everything around them, including the sunlight pouring in. The other three vamps were trapped with them, but weren't sure whether or not to get involved.

Determined to even the odds even more, Buffy marched around the room and threw open all the curtains. Some of the windows were boarded up and she kicked at them until the light spilled into the room. Just as she finished an agonized cry sounded from Angel.

Buffy whirled around to look at them.

Angel and Spike had rolled into the patch of sunlight and both were on fire. She lunged at them, grabbed Spike by his coat, and jerked him off the floor and away from Angel and out of the sunlight.

Angel continued howling, thrusting himself out of the light and rolling on the floor.

Buffy threw herself at Spike and started beating at the flames.

"Spike! Roll, you idiot!"

She kicked him onto his back, then jumped up and ripped a set of curtains off the wall. That spilled more sunlight into the room.

Buffy ran back to Spike and commenced beating out the flames. After a minute, she succeeded in putting them out, and Spike lay on the floor, exhausted and smoldering.

She glanced around and spotted Angel. He'd gotten his own fire out and was dragging himself over to Drusilla, who was waking up. He collapsed against the wall, clearly in no condition to do anything but glower at them. He didn't even look capable of that at the moment. The seven minions were pacing in separate corners of the room, unable to maneuver more than a few feet.

Buffy knelt and took hold of Spike. She dragged him across the floor and dumped him in a corner. They would be safe enough for the moment.

She crouched next to him and considered the situation. She sighed and shook her head. They'd been lucky.

She glanced down at Spike. "How are you doing?" she asked.

Spike gave her a pained, weary look.

"That good, huh?"

He didn't answer.

"I guess you know we're trapped here?" she asked.

Spike stared across the sunlit floor at Drusilla. She was whimpering and coddling Angel, talking nonsense and stroking his hair.

Buffy noticed and pulled his head around to look at her. "Spike," she said, "ignore them."

Spike stared at her for a few seconds, then slowly nodded.

"Are you hurt?" she asked.

"No." His gaze drifted back to Drusilla.

Buffy moved in front of him so he couldn't see anything but her, and gave him a quick once-over. His coat had protected most of his body from the flames, so he only had a couple of small burns on his face.

Buffy sat back and concentrated on what to do next. If she waited until sunset to get Spike out, the others would attack. Nine to two wasn't terribly sporting, especially when two were master vampires. Although Angel was seriously injured, he could still be a problem. After a minute, she decided to go to Giles. He was probably worried anyway.

Something occurred to her then, and she glanced down at Spike. He had a few spots of blood on his hands.

"Spike," Buffy said, nudging him slightly.

"What?" he asked, morosely. He couldn't take his eyes off Drusilla.

"Is that your blood?"

He looked at his hands. "No."

"How's that curse?" she asked, with a raise of her eyebrow.

Angel howled. "You're cursed, Spikie?"

Spike looked blank.

"The axe?" she said, patiently. "Can you let go?"

Spike tried to release the axe, but it remained firmly affixed. He closed his eyes and let out a slow sigh.

Dru grinned and clutched Angel's arm. "My Spike is all in a dither, " she said, airily. "He thinks daddy is his worst enemy."

Angel started laughing again, loud and hysterically. "So, I'm your worst enemy, Spikie?" He managed to get out. He put a hand over his heart. "That means so much to me -." He broke off, laughing again.

"Angel, shut up!" Buffy said.

"Angel," he mused, taking on a mocking look of contemplation. "You know, Buff, it's really sweet how you still think of me as your broody, soul-having boyfriend. Maybe we could work things out. I could only kill people you don't like so much, and you can teach me how to release my inner virtue."

Buffy ignored him and concentrated on Spike. He was staring at nothing, looking maudlin and inconsolable.

She could get no reaction from him, so she stood. "Spike, I'm gonna' go get Giles. I need help to get you out of here."

She looked around the room. There didn't appear to be any way that the others could reach Spike without broiling themselves.

She headed for the door.

"I kinda' like this detente thing we've got going here, Buff," Angel called after her. "Could you bring me something to eat? A cute little cheerleader would be nice."

She ignored him and marched outside.

"Blonde!" he shouted. "Not too much perfume. . . ."

Buffy shook her head in exasperation. Her life sucked so much sometimes she wondered what made her get out of bed in the morning.

". . . not too feisty, Buff! Not feeling too good right now. . . ."

She could hear Dru giggling insanely behind her. She felt bad leaving Spike with them, but there really wasn't anything she could do about it.

She reached Giles's place fifteen minutes later.

"I was worried, Buffy," he said, holding the door open for her.

Buffy quickly explained the problem.

Giles stared at her. "Do you really want to save Spike?"

"What do you mean?"

Giles sighed. "Buffy, are you sure Angel is this enemy that Spike must kill?"

She frowned. "Well, no. It wasn't real clear when the fight was over -."

"Buffy," he said, removing his glasses and massaging his face, "Spike may hate Angel at the moment, but you must realize that a slayer is the natural enemy of a vampire -."

"Giles, we have a truce."

"Do you propose we rescue him so he can attack you later?"

"Giles, I don't have time for this. Spike and I had an arrangement -."

"He's a vampire, Buffy."

"Are you saying I shouldn't keep my word, Giles?"

"Well -."

"Not very sporting of you. Where's that British sense of fair play?"

"I -."

"Really bad form, Giles," she said, her lower lip curling in disprovement.

He rolled his eyes. "Fine. Let's go." He grabbed his jacket. "Just don't say I didn't warn you when he turns on you like a rabid dog."

"You can even say 'I told you so' if it'll make you happy, Giles."

He shook his head. "The highlight of my life," he said, drably.

 

* * *

Once they arrived, they found the situation exactly as she'd left it. The look on Spike's face implied the last half hour hadn't been pleasant. Angel had apparently been taunting him nonstop and Buffy felt a twinge of sympathy for him. She shook her head. She had to stop feeling sorry for him. He was evil and she was the Slayer.

"Come on, Spike," she said.

Spike stood and Giles threw a blanket over him.

"Well . . . stop by again," Angel said, waving at their backs. "But, call first."

Giles gave Buffy an exasperated look.

"We can make a party out of it," he continued. He glanced around at the room. "A mop and a broom, a few decorations. . . ."

"Did you bring a crossbow, Giles?" Buffy asked, almost irritated beyond speech.

Giles looked mortified. "It didn't occur to me."

"I'm thinking a post apocalyptic theme," Angel continued. "A few bodies, some punch. . . ."

Buffy slammed the car door shut, cutting off Angel's rambling. She glanced over the seat. Spike was lying in the back, eyes closed and looking defeated and miserable.

Giles climbed in behind the wheel. He glanced at Buffy.

"So, what do you think?" she asked.

"I think it was a good plan with poor execution."

"Actually, I meant what do you think we should do next?"

"Oh." He started the car. "Well, let's discuss it later, shall we?"

Buffy sighed and shifted to look out the window. The ride back to Giles' apartment was achieved in uncomfortable silence.

Giles felt the need to make tea once they returned, and he did so immediately. He carried a serving tray into the living room and poured for each of them. He handed Buffy a cup.

She made a face. "Not really a tea drinker, Giles."

"Just take it, please. I think everyone needs to relax a bit. We still have a few problems to sort out." He handed Spike a cup.

He didn't argue, just took the tea and drank it quietly, clearly lost in ugly thoughts.

After a minute, Giles said, "Willow will be here shortly to help me research this curse."

Buffy nodded.

"If the two of you think you can remain civil to one another, I'll get started."

"We're fine, Giles," Buffy said.

Giles didn't look convinced, but he took his tea and moved to his desk anyway.

Buffy studied Spike. He still looked miserable. What was she supposed to do with that? Be nice to him? She wasn't sure she had it in her.

"So, you're probably better off without her, don't you think?"

Spike looked up at her slowly. "You better off without the poofter, then, I take it?"

Buffy looked away.

Giles cleared his throat. "I can see where this is going and I really can't afford to lose anymore furniture, so, please, for the sake of my apartment, pick another subject."

They remained silent, not sure what to say.

Ten minutes passed in silence until Willow and Xander arrived. Giles let them in and they stood, staring at Spike.

"What are you lookin' at?" he asked, glumly.

Xander was appalled. He glanced at Buffy. "Why are we helping Spike?"

Buffy sighed and rolled her eyes. "He's gonna' help me kill Angel."

"Really."

Buffy looked away, not wanting to have the conversation she knew was coming.

Her apparent inattention didn't stop Xander, however. "You can't trust him," he said, gesturing at Spike.

"Xander," Giles called, "Buffy and I have had this discussion and I'd rather not waste time repeating the whole thing."

Xander gave Giles, Buffy and Willow a look that implied he was the only sane person left in their group and sometimes it was too much to carry.

He flopped down beside Willow, who already had a book open on her lap.

Half an hour later, Willow carried a book to Giles and spread it open on the desk in front of him. "What about this?" she asked.

Giles peered at the small writing. "This is for gnomes," he said, glancing up at her.

"So?"

"Spike isn't a gnome."

"Well, I know, but couldn't we adapt it or something?"

Giles looked over the spell again. "I doubt it. See the fine print here," he said, pointing. "It only works on gnomes."

Willow squinted at the print. "Oh."

"Always check the fine print, Willow. Inconvenient things often happen when one forgets to check for clauses."

"Okay." She took the book and studied it next to him for a minute. "Giles, there seem to be a lot of spells just for gnomes."

"Yes," he said, distracted.

"That's kinda' weird, don't you think?"

"Hm? Oh, no. There was a gnome war around 720 B.C. Some of these books are merely a result of that."

Xander was off the couch and on the other side of Giles in seconds. "A gnome war? Are you kidding, Giles?"

"No. Do you mind? This is rather involved," he said, gesturing at the book in front of him.

"Sorry, Giles, but you can't just mention something like a gnome war and expect me to let it go," Xander said. "I mean, was this like midget wrestling? Was there mud involved? And just how do you make enough gnomes angry that they want to start a war?" He looked at Willow. "Just what makes a gnome angry?" He turned back to Giles. "Were they fighting other gnomes?"

Giles sighed. "Yes. Now, please, let me finish this."

Xander grimaced, disappointed, and returned to Buffy. He looked at her and she shrugged at him.

Another hour passed in comparative silence, but for the occasional comment.

Buffy asked Spike, "Got any other worst enemies lurking around the planet?"

He appeared to consider the question. "No."

"You sure?" She dropped her book on the coffee table. "Because, if anyone can make enemies, Spike, it's you."

"Thanks, but it's still no."

Xander leaned closer to Willow. "You think they had a mission statement?"

"Who?" Willow asked.

"The gnomes."

"I dunno," she replied. "Like, what kind of statement?"

Xander shrugged, and said, "We, the tiny and unappreciated, are mad as hell and we're not gonna' take it anymore?"

Giles cleared his throat. "Do you mind? I'm reading in Aramaic and some of the text is illegible."

"Sorry."

Twenty minutes later, Giles closed his book and sat back, rubbing his eyes. After a minute he turned to Spike. "What were Drusilla's exact words about the curse?"

Spike told him.

Giles frowned, considering.

"What are you thinking, Giles?" Willow asked.

"We may be looking at this wrong." He stood and started pacing. "You assumed that Spike had to kill Angel because the curse said you needed his blood."

"So?"

"So, I think perhaps we're looking at this curse figuratively when we should be taking it literally." He gestured at Spike. "It's very possible that he may need to actually drink the blood of his worst enemy - probably not even kill him."

"Oh, killing is definitely on the menu," Spike mumbled.

"But, the curse wasn't meant for Spike," Buffy said. "It was an accident. She thought he was someone else. Why would she be so specific and cater it to his vampiric tendencies like that?"

"I don't think she did. It was the curse itself."

"Come again, Giles."

"This curse doesn't exist. We can't find anything about it. The only thing we were able to find that was in any way similar to Spike's predicament were two spells. One is a spell to allow the maladroit to keep a hold of their weapons." He gestured at Spike. "Which clearly works very well. And Willow found another that gives a person the necessary skill or talent or whatever he's lacking, to kill his worst enemy. As far as I can tell, the merging of the two spells created the curse." He considered the desk for a moment. "I don't think this witch is all that adept at her chosen profession."

Spike grumbled. "She's not gonna' be adept at anything when I finish with her."

"But, you just said one of the spells is to kill his worst enemy?" Buffy said, uncomfortably, glancing at Spike.

"Yes, but I believe the curse fashioned itself from elements of the spell and then adapted itself to its target."

"So, we're back to this strictly literal interpretation about the blood."

"Yes." Giles shook his head. "I doubt we would have ever found out how to break it without Drusilla's peculiar . . . perspicacity."

"You feel comfortable relying on Drusilla for this info, Giles?" Xander asked.

He looked at Spike. "How accurate are her predictions usually, Spike?"

"Dead on. It's figurin' them out that's the tricky part sometimes."

"It seems rather clear-cut."

Spike shrugged. "They always are."

Giles frowned. "That's a contradiction, Spike."

Spike rolled his eyes."If she'd told me yesterday that I needed the blood of my worst enemy to release me, I wouldn't have had a clue what she was on about."

"Yes, I see. Now that the event has caught up with you, her perceptions make perfect sense."

"Yeah."

"So, you're comfortable in assuming what she told you - word for word - is accurate?"

"Yeah." Spike rubbed the back of his neck. "She's real prickly about wording. Always exact." He stood in agitation and started pacing, the axe swinging gently beside him.

Giles set back and thought.

So did Buffy. After a minute, she reached a decision. She stood, a determined look on her face. "I want this settled before we go back to the mansion."

Giles gave her a puzzled look. "Buffy, we're doing all we can. . . ."

"I mean between me and Spike."

Giles looked disturbed. "Buffy. . . ."

"He doesn't have to take enough to kill me," she said.

"He doesn't have to take any at all," he said, angrily.

Xander was appalled. "Hey - no way!" He grabbed Buffy's arm.

"Xander, I want this settled."

Buffy moved in front of Spike, who looked thoroughly shocked.

"Giles!" Xander said.

Giles jumped to his feet and crossed to them. He grabbed her other arm. "Buffy, I can't allow this."

"Giles. . . ."

"What's to stop him from bleeding you dry?"

"I won't kill her," Spike said.

"Thank you so much for the reassurance, Spike," Giles said, "but I trust you about as far as I can throw you." He turned on Buffy. "I repeat, Buffy, what's to stop him? He's killed two slayers already -."

"There are three of you," Buffy said. "If he gets carried away, you can stop him."

Spike scoffed.

Xander glared at him. "How do you know he didn't set all this up?"

"Huh?"

"The axe, the curse. Did anyone check to see if he's faking it?"

Giles said, "Yes, he is cursed. I determined that much with a spell while Buffy was gone."

"I still don't trust him," Xander said.

Buffy and Giles stared at each other for nearly a minute, neither willing to back down.

"Giles, if you don't want to watch, we'll leave -."

"You're not leaving my sight, Buffy," he said, firmly.

She folded her arms across her chest and fixed him with a resolute stare.

"Fine," Giles eventually said, annoyed. He retrieved his crossbow, loaded it while they watched, and moved to stand beside Spike. He jammed it against Spike's temple. "This will hurt like hell, and it's not very attractive, so I suggest you not let yourself get carried away."

"Giles!" Xander said. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?"

"You can't let -." He gestured at Spike, horror written over his face. "This is. . . ."

"Xander, please. You're not helping."

Spike looked at Buffy and she proffered her wrist.

He gave her a rakish smile. "I prefer the neck."

Buffy glared at him. "That's way too intimate." She thrust her wrist at him again. "Take it or leave it."

He gave her another slight grin, and gently took her hand. He turned it over, exposing her wrist, then leaned down slowly and placed his mouth on her.

Xander's mouth dropped open and he gripped the back of the couch.

Willow, mouth open also, just stared in fascination. She'd never seen a vampire bite anyone up close.

Buffy's heartbeat sped up. He was dragging it out - just to torture her. What was she thinking - letting a vampire bite her? Certainly, she couldn't expect gratitude from him. She was thinking about smacking him alongside the head when he bit her.

She gasped and tried not to pull her arm away. It was the strangest feeling. She became light-headed almost instantly, but not from blood loss - she hadn't lost enough yet. It was the warm, creeping sensation that was making her head spin - and it was moving up her arm. She closed her eyes.

Giles gritted his teeth, his finger eagerly fondling the trigger of his crossbow. What had he been thinking? Letting a vampire bite his slayer? What kind of a watcher let his charge be accosted in such a manner? And Spike had agreed a little too readily. He was considering shooting him through the head on principle when Spike suddenly broke away from Buffy and dropped her wrist. Giles leaned back, but kept the arrow pointed at Spike's head.

Spike wrapped his arm around Buffy's waist and carried her to the couch. He sat her down and stepped back, not sure how she might look on the situation in hindsight.

Xander, momentarily frozen by the horror of the situation, snapped out of it and rushed around the sofa.

"Get away from her," he told Spike, brushing him aside.

"She'll be okay," Spike said.

"Oh, really?" Xander said. "And we should take your word for it, I suppose?"

Spike shrugged and moved away.

Giles let the crossbow hang at his side and he moved around to get a look at Buffy.

Giles leaned over her. "Buffy?"

She opened her eyes and gave him a languid look.

"Are you all right?" Giles asked.

"Uh-huh," she mumbled.

Spike leaned past Xander and grabbed her wrist again, this time pressing his thumb over the wound. "You got any bandages?"

"What? Oh . . . uh . . . yes." Giles straightened and hurried to the bathroom.

"Get away from her," Xander said, trying to push Spike aside again and take Buffy's wrist.

Spike shoved him with his left arm and Xander staggered backward and fell over the coffee table.

Spike turned back to Buffy, ignoring Xander.

Xander jumped up, furious, and marched around the table and reached for Spike. Willow stepped in front of him.

"Xander, let it go."

He gave her a look of astonishment. "What? You're kidding, right?"

"No." She tugged his sleeve and pulled him as far from Spike as she could. "Everyone here is managing to get along okay, except for you."

"You call letting a vampire bite Buffy getting along okay!" he yelled, gesturing at Spike.

"Xander, I'm not having this conversation with you," she said, stiffly. "Giles let him do it. You need to get a grip and get over it, because you're not helping."

Xander stared at her, speechless, for half a minute. Finally, resigned, he threw his arms in the air. "Fine."

Willow smiled. "You can be the bearer of I told you so's if something bad happens, okay?"

"Oh, thanks, Wil. That makes it all better."

Spike crouched in front of Buffy, a peculiar look clouding his features. She'd let him bite her. He couldn't believe it. He'd never get the taste of her out of his system, now, never get the thought of her out of his head. Why was he such an idiot? He'd never considered himself to be all that smart, but he seemed to have gone completely barmy the last few hours.

Giles returned and quickly bandaged Buffy's wrist.

Spike stepped back. He didn't want to tell them it hadn't worked.

Giles moved Buffy where she was lying down, then stood.

Spike squeezed his eyes shut in frustration.

"Why is she so listless?"

Spike opened his eyes and waved, negligently at Buffy. "It won't last long. It's just an aftereffect."

"Is this normal?"

Spike shrugged. "Yeah. It's kind of an . . . allure thing."

Giles was horrified. "What!"

Xander looked about to protest, as well, but a sharp look from Willow cut him off.

"Relax, it's just a predator-prey thing." Spike gestured at Buffy. "Keeps 'em from tryin' to run off all terrified like."

"You couldn't have mentioned that earlier?"

Spike sighed and sat in the armchair. "Didn't think about it."

"Did it work?"

Spike held up his hand, casually waving the axe in Giles' direction.

Giles shook his head, annoyed, and becoming more perturbed by the second. He started pacing, trying to clear his thoughts and engage his brain on this new development. After a minute, he said, "So, clearly it's not Buffy."

"Didn't really think it was," Spike said.

Xander, nearly beside himself with anger, glanced at Willow.

She whispered. "Let Giles handle it."

Xander ground his teeth together. There were a lot of things he wanted to say to Spike, most of them involved punctuating with a very large stake, but he could wait.

Giles stopped and stared at Spike. "Why didn't you say so before?"

Spike gestured at Buffy, still lying quietly on the sofa. "Because she wouldn't have believed it without proof." He snorted. "Thinks she's my biggest foe just 'cause she's the slayer." He gave Giles a look of disdain. "A slayer is nothin' but a nuisance to the likes of me. I went after the other two just to prove I could do it." He let his eyes roam over the sleeping slayer. "She never did anything to make me hate her," he said, quietly. After a minute, he looked up at Giles and smiled, slightly. "'Course, droppin' a church organ on my head had me in a pissy mood for a while." He shrugged and looked away. "But, that was a fair fight."

Giles was staring at him in astonishment. He'd never had cause to talk to a vampire like this. Angel hadn't been all that communicative before he'd lost his soul and Giles had never pressed him.

"Are you quite certain that you've made no other enemies, Spike?" Giles asked.

"What? No - I mean, yeah, I'm sure."

A thought occurred to Giles and he stared blankly at the wall for half a minute.

Spike glowered at him. "What now?"

"What? Oh . . . uh . . . I was just thinking. . . ."

Spike rolled his eyes. "No kidding. About what?"

"Well, I've read about curses that involve objects and the cure is usually something touching the object." He gestured at Spike. "In this case it would be the blood touching your hand or the axe."

Spike frowned at his left hand, then glanced at Buffy. Giles did the same.

"You wanna' tell her?" Spike asked.

Giles moved around the sofa and crouched next to Buffy. "Not particularly. Besides, I may be wrong. We've already determined that this curse isn't a normal one."

Spike stood and looked over Giles' shoulder. "What are you doin'?"

Giles took Buffy's hand and turned to Spike. "The axe?"

"What?"

Giles motioned with his head, indicating he wanted Spike to bring the axe around to Buffy's hand.

Spike's mouth dropped open. "What are you -?"

Giles brushed one of Buffy's fingers lightly over the blade, producing a drop of blood.

Xander, having had more than enough, stalked across to the kitchen. He turned back to Willow. "Want anything? Coffee . . . tea . . . a blindfold?"

She shook her head. She wasn't all that thrilled with the goings on, but she didn't want to make the situation worse by complaining. Xander was doing enough for everyone, and besides, Giles knew what he was doing.

Xander stepped into the kitchen and looked for something to drink, trying to ignore the proceedings in the other room.

Giles looked annoyed, but quickly returned his attention to Spike.

"Can you let go?" he asked.

Spike tried. "No."

Giles pulled the axe around closer to Buffy's hand and let a few drops of her blood drip onto Spike's hand.

He released Buffy's hand and gave Spike an inquiring look.

Spike tried again to let go of the axe.

It wouldn't budge.

In the kitchen, Xander rolled his eyes in exasperation, and took a sip of his soda.

"I'm never gonna' get this bloody thing off!" Spike stomped around the room in frustration.

"Spike, calm down," Giles said, standing.

"I'm gonna' be prowlin' around a hundred years from now, dragging the soddin' thing around behind me. . . ."

"You may not be around in a hundred years, Spike, so I wouldn't worry about it."

Spike stopped. "Are you tryin' to be reassuring? 'Cause, maybe you should read a book first."

Buffy moaned and opened her eyes.

Giles leaned over her. "Buffy, are you all right?"

"Yeah."

Willow rushed to her side and sat beside her.

Giles quickly explained what they'd just done and the situation.

"So," she said, putting a hand to her head, "back to square one."

"I'm afraid so," Giles said. "But, at least we can eliminate you from Spike's list."

"Not much of a list, Giles." She sat up and closed her eyes as the room spun around.

Spike frowned. "You okay, Slayer?"

She opened her eyes and looked at him. He seemed genuinely concerned. She had an odd sensation that her perceptions were slightly off, so she was probably just imagining it.

Spike looked at the floor. He felt bad about biting her and that disgusted him. She was the Slayer and he should have ripped her throat out while he had the chance. An arrow through the head would've been inconvenient, but it might have been worth it. He turned abruptly and headed for the door.

"Spike, where are you going?" Giles asked.

"Back to the mansion."

"Good idea," Xander called.

"You can't go back there, Spike," Buffy said, pushing herself off the couch and following him.

"Bloody well can to."

"Let him go, Buff. It'll solve everyone's problem."

"Xander," Willow said, frowning at him.

He looked at her like she had a large insect on her nose, but didn't say anything.

"It's daylight," Giles said, following him to the door. "You'd never make it."

"He's right, Spike," Buffy said.

"I can make it." He reached for the door handle.

Buffy grabbed his arm. "Spike, don't be an idiot."

"It's him!" he yelled, spinning around to face her. "It can't be anyone else, Slayer! I don't hate anyone like I hate him!"

She turned loose of him. "You're not thinking clearly, Spike."

"I think we've determined pretty thoroughly that it's not you, Slayer," he sighed.

"And, if it's not Angel? Then what?"

Spike closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "It has to be him, Slayer. There's no one else."

Buffy didn't know what to say. He was fixated on Angel and nothing was going to move him.

"Did you and Angel ever get along?" she asked, abruptly.

"What?"

"You were together for a long time. You must've got along at some point."

"Yeah . . . no . . . I don't know . . . sometimes."

Giles looked at him, curiously. "When did you get along?"

Spike shook his head in exasperation. "I don't know." He started pacing in front of the door. "When I wasn't irritatin' him, I guess."

"Why did you irritate him?"

Spike sighed. "I didn't do it on purpose." He smirked. "Not at first, anyway. Just liked to go dancin' and drinkin'." He shrugged. "Normal things."

"Normal for a human."

"Hey," Spike said, annoyed. "Was I insultin' any of you?"

Giles held up a hand. "I'm sorry. I take it back." He gazed, curiously. "Why do you care about those things?"

"What'd you mean?" Spike asked, puzzled.

"You're a vampire," Giles said, waving a casual hand in Spike's direction.

Spike smirked. "We don't come from another planet, you know. We like movies and food and games. . . ."

"Angel never did, even with a soul," Buffy said.

Spike shook his head. "Yeah, well, he only had two hobbies - broodin' and fixin' his hair."

Xander let out a short laugh.

Buffy looked annoyed, but didn't comment.

"Angel didn't like you doing those things," Giles said. His curiosity was getting the better of him. He considered cracking open his current journal and taking notes, but decided Spike wouldn't take it well.

"No."

"And Drusilla?"

"What about her?"

"Did she like to go dancing?"

Spike looked pained for a moment, then, "At first."

"What happened?"

Spike grimaced. "Angelus told her vampires didn't go to parties just to dance and have a good time." He mimicked Angel. "We enjoy the moment as it leads up to the kill. Then we leave." Spike glanced at Buffy. "He always was boring. I don't know how he ever got a girl." He started his pacing again, swinging the axe lightly. "Did he ever take you to dinner?" he asked, abruptly.

Buffy shook her head. This was all too weird.

"Didn't think so. Probably couldn't dance if his feet were on fire."

"We danced," Buffy said, uneasily.

Spike scoffed. "Ever take you to a movie?"

"I had slaying to do."

Spike nodded, then seemed to drift off. "Dru and me used to go to the movies, sometimes we'd have dinner during the flick. . . ."

Buffy groaned and crossed her arms over her chest.

Spike went on. "Until she started wonderin' what Angel would think if he'd been there," he said, angrily. "Then it was strictly hunt and kill." He stopped, miserably. "And all the while, she was lookin' for him. Couldn't accept that he'd left us. Left her."

Giles, lost in thought for some time, looked up. "And, you've taken care of her for over a hundred years?"

"Yeah," Spike said, distracted.

Something occurred to Giles, but he didn't know quite how to broach the subject. He was particularly concerned about his furniture in the event of another outburst from Spike. "What was Drusilla like back then?" he asked, thinking he could possibly ambush Spike with a bit of verbal legerdemain.

Spike, however, was no longer paying attention. "Sent her flowers . . . candy. . . pretty little milkmaids. . . ." He was working himself into a frenzy again. "Nothin' made her happy. Always askin' about Angel! When's he comin' back? Should we keep lookin'?" He stopped and waved the axe at them. "Maybe he's lookin' for us! Maybe he'd like a cute little stable boy for dinner if he shows up -!"

"Spike. . . ."

"Angel says vampires don't do this! Vampires don't do that!" he screamed, quickly resuming his chaotic pacing.

Buffy leaned toward Giles and whispered, "Subject change, maybe, Giles?"

"Vampires have a simple life. . . !" Spike continued, waving the axe carelessly. "We don't listen to music! We don't fall in love. . .!"

Giles sighed. "Something occurred to me Buffy, but. . . ." He gestured at Spike, who was still pacing and lost in his diatribe.

"Vampires don't read books. . .!"

"Spike. . . ." Giles tried again, but was cut off.

Spike stopped and whirled on them. "Always turnin' her against me, even when he wasn't there!"

Giles stood. "Spike, calm down."

"What's the point of livin' forever if you can't savor it?" he asked, almost pleadingly.

Giles was lost. "I . . . I don't know, Spike. Why don't you sit down?"

Willow exchanged a sad look with Buffy.

Great, Buffy thought, now Willow's doing it, too. If we don't fix things soon, we'll both be carrying banners for Spike in his misery parade.

Spike stared, despondently, at the floor.

"Perhaps it's not a physical enemy," Giles said, quietly.

Spike looked up, confused.

"Could it be someone who has betrayed you?"

Spike just stared at him, thinking a point was being made, but not getting it.

"Someone you care for. . . ."

Spike looked stricken.

"Drusilla sired you, didn't she, Spike?" Giles asked.

"It's not her," he said, weakly.

Buffy stared at Giles. She hadn't considered Drusilla, either.

"She's your sire, Spike," Giles continued, "and she's betrayed and abandoned you."

Buffy said, "Look how she treated you, Spike. She's with Angel now." That thought made her nauseous. She could only imagine how Spike felt. "She took his side this afternoon, distracted you from the fight -."

"It's not her!" He turned away from them, facing the door.

"If we're right, you only need to drink from her," Buffy said, trying to sound reasonable.

Giles nodded. "She's right, Spike. You must consider the possibility."

"Shut up," Spike mumbled, leaning his head against the door.

Buffy ignored him. "Do you think she would've cared if Angel had killed you last night?"

Spike shook his head, slowly, not wanting to hear anymore.

"She doesn't care about you, Spike." She hadn't meant it to sound harsh, but something like that could never be anything but brutal. If it was true, she just wanted him to face up to it.

Spike let out a low, sobbing moan. This was too much. He couldn't take anymore. He'd been abandoned by his sire, cursed by an insane old hag, and completely betrayed by the only person that had ever mattered to him. He had no family, no home, and no reason to go on. A slayer willing to taunt him into an early grave was all he had left. It was too much.

"Did she EVER care for you Spike?" Buffy asked.

There was a moment of stunned silence, as Spike's sobs stopped abruptly. Giles glanced uneasily at Buffy. He knew she hadn't meant to be cruel, but he doubted Spike would see it as anything else.

Buffy, realizing how callous that had sounded, tried to put a hand on Spike's shoulder. She wasn't fast enough, however, as Spike let out an enraged howl, then slammed his fist through the door.

Buffy and Giles leapt back, startled at the sudden outburst.

Xander, still observing the proceedings from the kitchen, forsook the consolation it offered, and rushed to the door to help.

Willow, apprehensive about Spike's axe, decided to stay well clear.

Spike jerked his arm out, then smashed it through the wood again, sinking his arm through past the elbow, all the while screaming in a rage, and all before anyone had reacted enough to try to stop him.

Buffy and Giles lunged for him just as he slammed his fist through for a third time. Buffy grabbed his arm and pulled it back through the mangled door just as Xander reached them.

Spike was still howling and sobbing and trying to attack the door. Giles lunged for Spike's other arm before he started smashing things with the axe. He threw his weight against Spike's arm and pinned it to the door.

With both arms nearly immobilized, Spike began beating his head against the door. Xander jumped on his back, wrapped an arm around his neck, and tried to pull him back. Spike, however, was having none of it and Xander wasn't nearly strong enough to stop him. He kept up a persistent beating on the door, carrying Xander along with him. As it wasn't built for that kind of abuse, it eventually splintered around him, producing several long, jagged gashes in the wood. The sunlight lanced through the ventilated door, hitting Spike and causing his face to sizzle. He didn't notice.

"Spike!" Buffy reached up and clawed at his hair, getting a firm grip, and jerked his head back.

Spike screamed and kicked furiously at the door.

Buffy, Giles and Xander heaved him away in one smooth movement, and they all fell on the floor, Spike still thrashing in a heedless rage.

Buffy and Giles were lying on the floor beside Spike, their arms wrapped around each of his, and trying to pin his legs with their own, while Xander had been pinned under the vampire. He kept his stranglehold around Spike's neck because he couldn't get up and he couldn't do anything else.

They spent nearly two minutes like that, until Spike collapsed, his whole body going slack.

They kept hold of him just to be sure it wasn't a ruse. Eventually, however, they had to let go and inspect the damage.

Buffy was the first to loosen her grip. When Spike made no move, she let go completely and sat up beside him. Willow cautiously joined them and sat beside Buffy. Giles let go, as well, and Xander pushed his way out from under, and they all sat, staring at him.

Buffy and Willow exchanged a concerned look, neither having an idea how to comfort a heartbroken vampire. Giles and Xander shared a look, also, but it was more an _expression of exasperation mixed with annoyance than sympathy.

Spike was taking slow, even breaths, and staring at the ceiling.

Buffy took his right hand and examined it. It was cut, burnt and bruising quickly. She looked at his head. He had more lacerations across his forehead and around his left eye and the sun had scorched the right side of his face, turning it a livid red.

"Stake me, Slayer," he whispered.

Buffy looked at Giles in shock. She transferred the look to Willow, who nearly had her beat in the stupefied department. Xander just gave her a look that implied he saw no good reason she shouldn't go right ahead.

Silent for nearly a minute, she eventually said, "Let's get you cleaned up."

They pulled him to his feet and half-carried him to the sofa. They tried to lay him down, but he refused and pushed them away.

Buffy watched as he backed into a corner of the apartment. She was worried he might try to jump out a window and let the sun do what she'd refused to. Spike leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. He eventually fell asleep and everyone seemed content to leave him alone or, in Xander's case, pretend he wasn't even there.

 

  
An hour before sunset, Spike woke and went back to his pacing, this time taking in more of Giles' apartment.

"So, Giles," Willow asked, "what did they need all those spells for?"

"What? Who?"

"The gnomes."

Giles groaned. "Not you, too, Willow."

Xander came up beside Willow and put an arm around her. "You've been thinkin' about it, too." He grinned at Giles. "Is this story anything like Lord of the Rings? Because, if it is. . . ."

Giles held up a hand. "Please, if we can solve Spike's problem in the near future, I'll tell you everything I know."

Xander mimed zipping his lips and Willow smiled at him. "It was probably over religion," she whispered. "Lots of wars are fought over religion."

"So - what? There's a gnome god, too?"

They went to the kitchen, still discussing the ethics and practicality of a gnome war, and Giles gladly let them. He glanced around for Buffy and found her leaning against a wall, arms folded across her chest, and watching Spike. She seemed to be sympathizing with the enemy and Giles didn't like it. He wouldn't wish Spike's circumstances on anyone, but he felt he was the only one with any kind of perspective, and that bothered him. He wasn't certain Buffy was ready to kill Angel or to even let someone else do it. Giles sighed and took a sip of his tea.

"It's probably not her," Buffy said, abruptly. She'd felt bad all day, but didn't know what to do about it. They were still mortal enemies, after all, and apologizing for hurting his feelings didn't seem right.

Spike ignored her and kept pacing.

 

  
Giles tried to work out a feasible plan for attacking the mansion, but had to face that fact that Spike wasn't in a mood to cooperate. He knew Buffy wasn't going to let Spike go alone, and Giles felt the same way about Buffy.

The sun had just dipped behind the houses across the street when Spike rushed outside and stalked away without a comment.

Buffy gave Giles an exasperated look, then set out after him. Giles and Xander retrieved swords apiece and followed. Willow brought up the rear, having stuffed a bag full of stakes and knives.

 

  
Angel was waiting for Spike. As much as he wanted to kill Buffy, he had to make time to chastise his wayward childe. Discipline was important in vampire hierarchy, and Angelus loved dispensing it. He set his minions on the Slayer and her pals as soon as they arrived, while he and Drusilla faced off against Spike.

Angel carried an axe, too, and he circled Spike like a cat. "I thought you were pathetic before, Spike, but you've really made the pitiful look all your own, you know?" He smirked. "It looks good on you."

Spike glowered at him and let his game face slide into place."You've been ruinin' my life from the minute I was turned."

Angel laughed, but stopped abruptly as Spike lunged at him, axe swinging.

 

  
Buffy and Giles didn't waste any time on verbal sparring with the enemy. The odds weren't appealing and neither felt comfortable with their ally, who seemed to have slipped off into a world of his own.

Giles and Buffy determined to stay back to back, and so far it had worked nicely.

Willow and Xander were doing the same, but had backed into a corner for added protection. The group had dusted seven vamps all together and were just preparing for the next assault when Drusilla's scream broke their concentration.

They gazed across the room.

Spike was on top of Angel, his axe pressed against his throat.

Buffy felt dizzy. He was going to do it. He was going to kill Angel. She tried to swallow, but her throat was suddenly parched. It had to be done. She'd been ready for it ever since the night he'd killed Miss Calendar, but now that they'd arrived at the event, she was glad it was going to be at someone else's hand. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping it would be over quickly.

"Buffy!" Giles called.

She opened her eyes just as a vampire lunged at her throat. She dropped to her knees, ramming the stake into his chest as she did.

Giles stepped away from Buffy to get better maneuverability with his sword. He had no time for fancy swordsmanship - he went straight for the head, decapitating his opponent in seconds. The next two vamps assaulted him together and Giles ducked and slid past them. He came up smoothly behind them and swung his sword at them from behind. Their heads left their bodies in one swift stroke and exploded into dust.

Buffy moved away from Giles, which allowed her more freedom of movement. She kicked, punched and staked, all the while dancing in and out of the vamps' reach. They were howling in frustration, becoming desperate and clumsy.

She spared a glance at the fight across the room. She knew Angel was still alive - his death would not have gone unnoticed by her if she'd been on the other side of the planet - and she wanted to know what had happened.

They were in the same position, Spike on top of Angel, axe pressed against his throat. He'd drawn blood, but couldn't push the blade on through because Drusilla was on his back, one arm wrapped around his neck and the other buried in his hair, trying to pull him off of her sire. She'd cut Spike with her nails, making a long, jagged gash over his left eye, but he didn't seem to notice. Enraged as he was, Spike couldn't maintain his hold much longer. He was straining against two master vampires whose strength equaled his own, and it only remained for one of them to get a better purchase.

Buffy twisted to her side and slammed a stake through her opponent's heart, then raced across the room. She dived at Drusilla, slamming into her with enough force to rip her from Spike's back and hurl the two of them several more feet where they banged into a wall.

Buffy got to her feet in time to see Angel knee Spike in the side and roll the two of them over where he was now on top. Buffy looked around on the floor for her stake.

Angel howled in agony and Buffy whirled around.

Spike had sunk his fangs into Angel's neck and was trying to tear his throat out.

With an agonized bellow Angel tore himself away from Spike. He landed on his side, a hand at his neck, trying to staunch the flow of blood.

Spike leapt to his feet and he and Angel stared at each other. Buffy, Giles, and every other vampire in the room stared, too.

Glaring vehemently at Angel, Spike tried to open his hand.

He couldn't.

He glanced in disbelief at his hand. Angel's blood was on his hand, and he'd drunk from him as well. It had to be him. An astounded look crossed his face. It had to be him. It had to be. . . .

Angel was lying on the floor, laughing.

No one else thought the situation amusing enough to do so, though, and Angel found himself the only one consumed with mirth. He didn't seem to mind. He got to his feet slowly, still laughing.

Eventually, he stopped, but only because the blood loss was making him light-headed.

Buffy looked down and noticed her stake. She picked it up, slowly, and took a step toward Angel's back.

Giles glanced at Drusilla, wondering if she would try to stop Buffy, but she seemed distracted. She stood against the wall, mumbling nonsense.

Buffy raised her stake . . . and hesitated.

She was instantly furious with herself. She thought she was ready to do it, thought she'd hardened herself enough for the task.

Spike made eye contact with her.

She couldn't do it, and she knew that he knew. She knew why, too - because he could never do the same to Drusilla. Her hand tightened around the shaft of wood, as she stood, frozen in place.

She noticed a peculiar look in Spike's eyes. Buffy blinked, realizing it was much the same look he'd given her earlier when he thought he'd hurt her.

She nodded, minutely, rightly interpreting his look, and backed away.

Spike was willing to do it - so she wouldn't have to.

Angel turned around. "Can't do it, can you, Buff?" he said, smiling.

She stared at him, not wanting to talk to him.

Angel turned back to Spike. "It's really sweet how you two have bonded over your pitiful lives," Angel said, jerking a thumb at Buffy. "I bet you spent the day doin' each other's hair and whining about being a couple of losers."

Buffy glared at him.

Spike took a swipe at his head with the axe, but Angel ducked under it. He picked a sword off the ground and leveled it at Spike. They began circling each other again.

"Can I come to the wedding?" Angel asked. "I mean, it's only right. I did bring you two lovebirds together."

"Shut up, Angel," Buffy said.

"Ah, come on, Buff. Ya gotta' admit, it's adorable." He stopped, apparently musing on the situation. "Buffy and Spike . . . Spike and Buffy. I love how it almost rolls off the tongue, don't you?"

Spike heaved himself at Angel, axe swinging, and the fight was quickly engaged again.

Buffy glanced around for Giles, but before she spotted him, she was tackled from behind by Drusilla.

"You're tainting my Spike," she whispered, holding Buffy in a firm grip. "He's all askew and I can't straighten him out."

Buffy reached up and clutched at Drusilla's hair. "Did you even start out with a full deck, Dru?" She bent and jerked Drusilla over her shoulder. Instead of letting her go to fly across the room, she held on and slammed her into the floor. Buffy fell on her, ramming her elbow into her ribs.

Drusilla screamed.

Spike and Angel glanced in her direction.

"Go ahead and stake her, Buff," Angelus said. "I'll kill Spike and we can be together again." He smirked. "I think we should have a rule about talkin' about our exes, though, don't you think?"

Spike hit Angel in the jaw twice, then kneed him in the stomach.

"You never cared about either one of us, did you!" he screamed.

Angel, still doubled over, backed away.

Spike kept after him, slashing with the axe until he hit his target. Angel yelled in pain as the blade cut into him. He collapsed to the floor, clutching his abdomen, and kicked himself backward, away from Spike.

With Buffy's sudden departure, Giles had decided the corner was the safest place to be. He'd backed himself into it and was holding his own for the moment. He had three vamps at bay, none of which seemed interested in helping either of their masters.

"We got all night," one said.

"The Slayer don't got nothin' left," his friend said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. "She's runnin' on empty over there and she ain't gonna' help you none."

Giles squeezed his eyes shut in annoyance, then quickly opened them.

All three were laughing, casting quick glances over their shoulders at the twin battles going on.

Giles looked disturbed. Buffy and Spike were doing all right, as far as he could see, but the situation had gotten out of control. He couldn't see Willow or Xander.

"Relax," the second said. "Drusilla can't kill her. Angelus wants to do that himself."

"Do shut up," Giles said, exasperated.

"It's only right, you know," he continued. "Her boyfriend doin' her in."

"Yeah," his friend said, taking on a scholarly tone that he was ill-equipped to handle, "poetic justice always comes home to roost."

Giles groaned. "It's bad enough you're bloodsucking monsters, but must you butcher the English language as well?"

The vamps growled at him and lunged.

Giles swung his sword, cutting neatly across the abdomen of all three.

They yelled and leapt back.

Giles pressed his advantage, taking a swift step to his side. He decapitated the one to his left with a trim upstroke.

As the dust settled, the other two, still hunched over and holding their stomachs, backed up, growling and baring their fangs at Giles.

Giles balanced his sword in the space between them. "If you're contemplating mangling additional metaphors, I suggest you reconsider."

The battle went on for another ten minutes. Eventually, Giles, Xander and Willow dusted the remaining vamps in the room and he, Buffy and Spike stood facing Angel and Drusilla. Xander and Willow posted themselves at the door and windows as lookouts for more minions.

Giles, the least emotionally involved, studied the situation.

It was quite clear that Buffy wasn't going to kill Angel - at least not tonight. Despite what she said, she just wasn't ready.

Spike, on the other hand, was more than willing. He and Angel, however, were evenly matched, and neither was able to maintain an advantage for more than a few seconds. Angel seemed to be seriously injured. He was standing, hunched over with a hand on his stomach. They were standing apart, glaring at one another, clearly waiting for the bell to sound for the next round.

Drusilla seemed in a miasma of confusion, mostly of her own devising, Giles knew, and seemed unwilling to do much more than gaze in fascinated wonder as her sire and her childe fought to the death.

Try as he might, Giles couldn't see a happy ending on the horizon. Getting out was shaping up to be a good idea and he cautiously approached the edgy quartet in the middle of the room.

"So, what makes you think it's not the Slayer?" Angel managed to gasp.

Spike fixed him with a hateful glare.

"It's not me," Buffy said.

Angel stared at her for a minute, then, apparently forgetting his injuries, broke into a wide grin. "You bit her, didn't you?" He looked at Spike in astonishment, then at Buffy again. "She let you bite her!" He started laughing again. "She threw herself at you and you didn't kill her?" He looked at Buffy, equally amazed. "Lowering your standards, Buff?"

"Raising them," she ground out.

Spike, not quite sure he heard right, glanced at her.

Angel shook his head in disgust. "Very disappointing, Spike." He gestured at Drusilla. "You know, Dru always told me you weren't like us."

Spike stared at Drusilla. He didn't think she could hurt him anymore, but she continued to surprise him.

An amusing thought occurred to Angel and he thumbed over his shoulder at Drusilla. "Maybe it's Dru."

"Oh, no," Drusilla said, grinning. "My Spike knows his worst enemy."

Angel turned on her. "Do you know who it is?"

She gave him a knowing smile.

Angel shrugged. "I had high hopes for you, Spikie, but you never really amounted to much, you know that? You just didn't have it in you to be a real pestilence on mankind."

Spike exploded. "I'm sick and tired of you tellin' me I'm not good enough! Well, you know what? I've had it! I'm tired of tryin' to measure up! A hundred years of tryin' is enough!"

He turned on Drusilla. "I never hurt you, Dru! Never left you! I took care of you for a hundred years! Gave you everything you wanted and you left me the minute he came back!"

"She's not your wife, Spike," Angel said, contemptuously.

A shocked look crossed Spike's face.

Xander glanced at Willow. "You get the feeling we're in some psycho version of Days of Our Lives?"

"Shhh," she replied, and returned her attention to the tableau.

Angel hobbled over to Drusilla and put an arm around her waist. "That's your problem, you know?" He leaned down and kissed Drusilla. "Always getting attached."

Spike stood, rooted to the floor, and unable to form a coherent sentence.

Buffy maintained her frown, but now it was mixed with sympathy. No one should be treated like this, not even Spike.

A contemplative look marred Giles' otherwise grim features. A possibility occurred to him and he glanced at Spike. He thought he knew how to break the curse, but he wasn't sure how Spike would take it.

Unnoticed, the cut on Spike's forehead continued to bleed profusely. It ran down his face and started dripping off his chin. Eventually, a lone drop hit the back of his hand.

The morbid silence of the room was shattered by the clang of Spike's axe dropping to the floor.

Spike looked down in shock. He brought his hand up and stared at it. He turned his hand over, slowly, and saw the blood. Another drop fell from his face, splattering his hand.

A hysterical laugh broke the spell and Spike jerked his head up.

Drusilla was cackling in a high-pitched, uncontrollable manner, and pointing at Spike.

After calming a bit, she said, "You're your own worst enemy, my Spike." She leaned on Angel's shoulder. "Daddy tried to teach you. . . ." She smiled, dreamily. "Tried to make you a good demon."

At first, Angel had been too surprised to react, but as the humor of the situation dawned, he began to chuckle. "It's like I always said, Spikie. . . ." He leaned forward and said, in a mocking whisper, "vampires don't write poetry."

That was too much for Spike. He let out a furious yell, scooped up the axe, and swung at Angel.

Angel, not prepared for the sudden assault, jerked back and thrust Drusilla in front of him.

Horrified, Spike tried to pull back, but he was too far into his swing. Angel, still weak from his injuries, stumbled as he tried to get away and he pulled Drusilla down with him. The blade slid across Drusilla's neck and she screamed.

She fell on top of Angel and he wrapped an arm around her, keeping her between himself and Spike.

Buffy, Giles, Xander and Willow stared at the scene in shock.

Spike dropped the axe and fell to his knees. Forgetting about Angel, he reached for Drusilla, gently clutching her head and pulling her toward his chest.

"Oh, Dru, I never meant to hurt you, baby. . . ."

She was losing blood fast and consciousness receding, but she still had enough presence of mind to notice Spike. She took his face in her hands. "Oh, my Spike," she whined.

"Dru. . . ."

"Angel will forgive you, my darling. . . ."

That was more than Spike could take. He broke down and buried his face against Drusilla's neck, his fingers entwined in her hair.

"There, there, my love," Drusilla said, airily. "We'll make everything better, won't we, daddy?"

"Oh, yeah, Dru," Angel said. "I'll make everything better." He heaved himself up and cast Drusilla away. Spike tried to grab her, but Angel was too quick for him. In the same movement, he brought his right hand around in a brutal thrust and plunged his sword through Spike's side.

Spike's body went rigid, his head thrown back, and he let out a loud, agonized scream.

Angel brought his leg up, planted his foot on Spike's chest, and kicked him away, the sword coming free with the movement.

Buffy broke from her paralysis and dived for Spike. She grabbed him under the shoulders and pulled him across the floor.

Angel dragged himself to his feet and swung the sword lightly in front of him.

"Care for a duel, Giles?" he taunted.

"I don't think you're in shape," Giles said, severely.

Angel grunted in acknowledgment. "It's been one of those days, you know?" He bent and took Drusilla's arm. He straightened, groaning with the effort, and starting pulling her across the floor.

Giles looked at Buffy. She was sitting on the floor next to Spike, staring at Angel as he dragged his girlfriend away from them.

Xander and Willow joined them. "Should we go after them?" Xander asked, still dazed from the night's events.

"No," Giles said. "There may be more minions in the house or on their way." He sighed and glanced at the ceiling. "That was the most ill-conceived endeavor I've ever participated in and I think we're all quite lucky to get away with no injuries."

"I wouldn't say we were all completely injury-free, Giles," Willow said, motioning to Spike.

"Spike doesn't count," Xander said.

"Yes, he does," Willow protested. "He's on our team -."

"What?" Xander turned a horrified look on her.

"Well. . . ," she said, uncertainly, "for the day anyway."

Xander didn't look convinced.

Spike moaned and tried to move. Buffy put a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't move, Spike. You're hurt," she said, absently.

Spike refused to listen, and sat up. Buffy sighed, grabbed his arm, and pulled him to the nearest wall. She leaned him against it and looked sadly at him.

Giles approached them. "We should go," he said. "I don't fancy reliving the last half hour, and I'm sure Angel has more minions around."

Buffy nodded. She took Spike's arm and tried to help him.

"Don't want to go," Spike mumbled.

"You can't stay here, Spike," Buffy said, reasonably.

"He wants to stay, Buff," Xander said, agreeably.

She ignored him. "Spike. . . ."

"Got no where to go," he said.

"We'll find someplace, Spike," she said, trying again to pull him up.

Xander and Giles exchanged a quick, pained look. This can't end well, Xander thought.

Spike jerked away from her.

Giles knelt in front of him. "Spike, there's something you should know."

"Whatever it is, I don't care."

Giles sighed. "I think you will." He gave Buffy an uncomfortable look.

"Giles?"

He looked back to Spike. "That healing spell the witch did for you."

Spike looked up, wearily. "What about it?"

"It's not permanent."

"What?"

Buffy's mouth dropped open. She glanced at Spike.

Giles continued. "Healing spells don't really work. The body can't be healed by magic. It's only a temporary fix, I'm afraid."

Spike stared into space for a few seconds until Giles spoke again.

"We need to get out of here while you can still walk."

"No."

"Spike," Giles began, but was interrupted.

"Just stake me, Slayer."

She didn't respond, just sat, staring at him.

"I can't go back to that," he whispered, miserably. "Can't go back to that chair . . . being helpless. . . ."

After a few seconds Buffy reached a decision. "I'll take care of you, Spike."

He didn't get what she'd said at first. He turned to look at her. "What?"

Xander, Giles and Willow stared at her, shocked.

"Buffy. . . ." Giles started, but was quickly interrupted by Xander.

"This Mother Theresa look really isn't you, Buff," he said. He waved at Spike. "He can take care of himself."

Buffy shot him an angry look, but didn't say anything. Xander held up his hands, resigned.

"Come on," she told Spike, brusquely, not wanting to dwell on what could prove to be a bad idea.

"Why are you helping me, Slayer?" Spike asked. He was clearly as baffled as Xander.

Buffy looked like she didn't have a good answer, but finally managed, "We still have that truce."

Spike grunted. He would have preferred to snort, but he didn't feel very well and it was all he could manage.

Buffy didn't wait for him to protest further, but hauled him to his feet.

Spike was in too much pain and far too dejected to put up another argument, so he let her have her way. Besides, he really didn't have anywhere else to go.

Giles took his other arm and together they hauled him outside. He wasn't happy with the program, but he didn't have a better idea.

Xander caught up with Giles and took his sword.

"Thank you," Giles said.

"Sure," he replied. "So, Giles, about these gnomes. . . ."

The End


End file.
